


Consultants

by navaan



Category: Elementary, Marvel (Comics), Marvel 616
Genre: Chance Meetings, Community: intoabar, Gen, Implied/Referenced Alcoholic Tony Stark, Multiverse, Trapped in Another Universe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-21
Updated: 2020-06-21
Packaged: 2021-03-06 22:42:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,013
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26066680
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/navaan/pseuds/navaan
Summary: Stuck in another universe without superheros, Tony Stark tries to build his way up and find a way to get back home - then he meets Morland Holmes in an airport bar.
Comments: 12
Kudos: 21
Collections: A Ficathon Goes Into A Bar





	Consultants

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Into A Bar ficathon 2020 on DW with the prompt: ony Stark goes into a bar and meets… Morland Holmes!

The airport business lounge reminded Tony of the places where once upon a time he'd knocked back a drink or two before running into investors and business partners. The decor was tasteful, modern, luxurious and yet strangely impersonal and bland at the same time. But the bar was impressive, presenting the collection of bottles in floor to ceiling shelves that were lit in different colors.

He stared at it for much longer than was comfortable before he shook his head, banishing the memory of the thick delicious taste of well aged Cognac.

Some struggles were the same for an alcoholic in all of the multiverse. Stuck as he was in this hero-less, low-tech version of the Earth he knew he tried to stay focused on the things that counted: building a business, finding the tools he needed, getting home.

Frustration was the best guide back into the bottle and he wasn't going to give in to temptation that easily.

He sat down in an empty chair at the bar. "Sparkling water and a glass of orange juice," he ordered before the barkeeper could even ask.

The man, wearing a well cut suit, and an air of unshakable calm merely nodded, making no comment as he sat about pouring Tony his decidedly non-alcoholic selection.

Beside him a gentleman in a grey suit looked over his paper (actual _paper_ ) to look at Tony.

Tony nodded, amiably.

"The Chardonnay is quite good," the man offered in a drawling British accent. There was a single glass of red wine in front of him.

"I'm sure. It would enjoy it a little too much." Tony shrugged and took a sip of the juice.

"Ah," the man said catching Tony's meaning despite the vagueness of the comment. "Sobriety is a worthwhile struggle."

Tony nodded, considering the glass of wine and wondering about the implications.

"My son," the man offered with a pause, "struggles."

"I see." Tony nodded and swirled the juice around in his glass.

"You're American? In Asia for business as I expect?"

Tony grinned to himself. Transit conversations like this one were the same across the multiverse too. Having them without the person on the opposite side knowing anything about him was refreshing. And yet he missed being able to go from place to place without the need to be stuck in an airport like this.

He missed the armor.

He missed being Iron Man.

He missed Cap and the other Avengers... the only real family he'd ever known.

Not one to let an opportunity slip through his fingers, he fished a business card from the inner pocket of his suit jacket and slid it across the polished mahogany of the bar. It had the logo of the current Stark Solutions on it and under it the name Anthony E. Stark. He was building up to get what he needed after all.

"Solutions?"

"I'm a consultant. Engineering, electromechanics, robotics." He avoided bringing up artificial intelligence when he wasn't yet in business with someone.

"Stark? You're the consultant who was pulled in by Tren Arial. You're not the same Stark who set up the new security system for Gorge though?"

"You know about those?"

The man nodded curtly and finally folded the paper up neatly to give him his full attention. "You saved me a huge investment with the work you did on Tren Arial. They were about to fail."

"They were," Tony admitted because it had not been a secret at the time either

"Morland Holmes," the man introduced himself, offering his own business credentials.

Obviously Tony had heard of him.

He was a business consultant who had his fingers in many pies the world over, who some of Tony's investors talked about as if he was Victor von Doom himself or at the very least a Count Nefaria.

Tony took his card. "Another consultant."

"It seems consultants are the ones who can give the needed perspectives."

"And money," Tony suggested.

"In my case, yes."

They talked around the business world, asking covert questions to see what their common interests might be. Morland Holmes, Tony gathered fast, had looked into him and Stark Solutions and not at all casually.

"No family? No connections?"

"I made my name," Tony lied. "Accident. Lost my memory. Nobody came to look for me."

It was the story he'd been telling since he'd crashed through time and space and ended up banged up and hurt in town near Seattle on a world he at the time hadn't realized wasn't home.

"I see," Morland said in his deep voice.

It was hard to tell if he believed the story, was interested or simply didn't care. But Tony had played the secret identity game since he'd been barely out of college. He knew when someone was probing him for details or on the verge of putting the right facts together.

So Tony instead asked a few questions about Morland's business connections, distracting with his own interest, and then looked at his phone. "Look at the time. It was a pleasure to meet you, but I have to make a call before..."

"Oh, of course, of course," Morland said and watched Tony gather his things, ready to extract himself from this conversation as quickly as possible.

At the last moment he reached into his suit pocket and held out another card for Tony.

"Call her up," he said. "She works with my son, Sherlock. In New York. That's where you're based."

The name on the card read Joan Watson.

"Another consultant?"

"Not in business. They are consulting for the police as private investigators. They might help you find out more about who you are, find your way home."

Surprised, Tony took the card. He had not expected the empathy or interest. He wasn't sure he was buying it.

"Thank you," he said and made his good-byes.

He knew who he was and where he needed to go and needed no private eye to tell him, but he was intrigued.

Perhaps he would look Watson and Holmes up in New York when he had the time.


End file.
